Forever Haunted, Forever Numb or Living, Breathing, Nightmare

(A Constantine-Diagnosis Murder Crossover)

Starring: John Constantine, Mark Sloane, Steve Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bently, Balthazar, Gabriel

OC'S: Maxximillion "Maxx" Richards, Samantha Ducard, David.

Warnings: Violence, Disturbing Imagery, Language.

Disclaimer: John Constantine, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Papa Midnite © DC/Vertigo Comics. All Diagnosis Murder Characters © CBS and Viacom Productions Inc. Spenser © Robert B. Parker

Authors Note: First of all Maxximillion 'Maxx' Richards © Nemo Draven AKA Me. You can use Samantha or David, I don't care. But try and use Maxx without my permission, and you won't like the outcome. Alright, now on with the fun stuff, some of this stuff is based off of content from the Constantine movie novel. Other of it I just made up, I hope those parts aren't too transparent. Also, please don't mail me saying 'What craziness made you come up with this story?' It's really annoying and very rude. So, I'll clear up what gave me the idea right now. I was reading a Diagnosis Murder fanfic after I had just finished reading a Constantine fanfic, you do the math. Now without further ado I give you Forever Haunted, Forever Numb. P.S. Title © Me.

Dr. Jesse Travis had just finished his nightly rounds and was headed home. He walked out to the parking lot and got in his car. He drove down towards his apartment; it was 2 in the morning. The hookers were lining Chanero Street, he looked at them as he drove by. He wasn't really looking for a date, but a few of the hookers caught his eye. They were very beautiful, but it wasn't their beauty that caught his eye, it was their tails. These hookers weren't human, they were something else, something much more sinister, something that made Jesse shake and shiver. They were half breed demons. They stared at him through the glass of his windows. He looked away and quivered. He closed his eyes and concentrated to turn off his physic sensors. Maxx had taught him how to when he was 13. It was pretty easy once he got the hang of it and plus he wasn't very psychic, just enough to be able to see them. Sometimes he couldn't even do that. He was happy that his psychic sensors weren't as strong as Maxx's or Constantine's were. He would probably be miserable if they had been that strong. He opened his eyes and the hookers looked like normal, everyday, people. He sighed and continued driving to his apartment.

He parked in the parking lot, and walked up the stairs to his apartment. He opened the door and locked it behind him. He fell down on his bed and was about to fall asleep, when he heard a strange noise. He sat up in the bed, but was shoved down by an unseen force. There was a man in an Armani suit standing over him with his hands around Jesse's throat. Jesse tried to get breath to his lungs. The man standing over him started to speak a strange language.

'Hell-speak.' Jesse thought. 'He's speaking hell-speak.'

Jesse didn't know how to speak hell-speak, he had just heard about it from Maxx and Constantine. Even though he had never heard it, he knew in his gut that this was hell-speak. He looked at the man again and realized that this man was a half-breed demon. He had heard from Constantine that when a demon was speaking hell-speak they were trying to take over someone.

"No! No! No!" Jesse gasped, trying to breathe.

Slowly his world went black.

Dr. Mark Sloane was walking towards the Doctor's Lounge in Community General. He entered the room and got a cup of coffee. He sat down at a small table and picked up a paper that had been left there by someone else. The door opened and he looked up to see his son Steve holding a baseball cap with a big, odd looking, symbol on it.

"Hey, Steve." Mark said.

"Hey, Dad. Is Jesse around here somewhere?" Steve asked, looking around.

"No, he left a couple of hours ago. Why?" Mark asked, curious as to why his son would be asking about Jesse so late at night.

"Oh, he left his baseball cap on my desk. I'm headed home I'll drop it by his apartment." Steve said, heading for the door.

"Whoa, Steve. Why don't you just give it to him tomorrow? What's the rush?" Mark asked.

"Do you remember that time Jesse came running in the restaurant freaking out and screaming 'Where is it'?" Steve asked.

"Yeah…"

"This is the 'it' he was referring to."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, apparently it has some extreme sentimental value. He panics anytime he can't find it. So, I thought that I might save everyone a 'freak out' session and return it to him tonight." Steve explained.

"Oh, alright. See you at home, son." Mark said, as Steve headed for the door.

Steve Sloane went to the parking lot and got back in his truck. He headed towards Jesse's apartment building, noticing that the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach had grown. This feeling was the real reason he was looking for Jesse. Sure, Jesse did freak out when he couldn't find the baseball cap, but Steve was sure that something bigger was going on. He only got this feeling, when something bad was about to or had already happened. He drove up and parked his car beside Jesse's. He got out of his truck and walked up the stairs to Jesse's apartment. He knocked on Jesse's door and called out,

"Hey, Jess. It's Steve."

When he got no response he was a little worried so he knocked again and called out,

"Hey, Jess. I got your baseball cap here, thought that you might want it back."

Again he got no response, this time he was really getting worried. Jesse was a heavy sleeper, but he didn't sleep that heavily. Steve knocked on the door really loudly while calling out,

"Hey, Jesse. Open up, buddy."

Steve got no response, once more. He knocked on the door one more time and this time it swung open freely. This scared Steve, even more. Jesse never left his door open, no matter how tired he was. Steve stepped inside the apartment and called out,

"Jesse?"

There was no response. Steve looked around the apartment and saw Jesse lying on the bed.

"Jess!" He said running over to his friend.

Jesse was lying on the bed, barely breathing. There were signs of a struggle, and there were finger marks around Jesse's neck.

"Jesse? Jesse?!" Steve yelled while gently shaking his friend

There was no response from Jesse.

"Shit!!!" Steve cursed loudly.

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911.

"This is police officer Steve Sloane I need an ambulance at 7890 W. Sun Vista Blvd, Apartment # 25, ASAP!"

He hung up the phone and cradled his friend's head in his lap.

"Hang on, Jesse. Hang on." He said to his friend, he was nearly in tears.